A different Boy who lived
by spurious-verisimilitude
Summary: One-shots, story ideas: First up: A butterfly flaps its wings in china, Nader is elected as President of America, and a different boy-who-lived is crowned...


Author's note: I hope this idea, though not necessarily original, is not a complete hash of another's story/idea.

This story is open for adoption if you want to continue with this story. Read the footnotes for details.

**Summary:** A butterfly flaps its wings in china, Nader is elected as President of America, and a different boy-who-lived is crowned.

* * *

Two boys fit the description, two boys fit the prophecy.

In a corner of England there was a quaint little village amusingly called Little Hangleton, in it sat a secluded manor, dark and dingy, with little to draw attention to it.

This was the seat of the dark Lord Voldemort. One day in the August of 1979, he could be seen sitting and brooding over the disturbing news brought to him by one of his Death Eaters.

"Are you certain of the information Severus", he questioned.

"I heard it with my own ears, master", replied the potions prodigy.

"Very well, Malfoy, I want you to find the boys who would fit the prophecy", he barked.

* * *

"Master," Lucius Malfoy said, "I have found the two boys that match the prophecy, they are…"

"Blood traitors," roared the dark lord "I will deal with these boys myself", with that he swept away from the hideout, and apparated directly onto the location given by his subordinate.

* * *

It was a dark night when a man appeared in a field, seemingly out of nowhere in front of a secluded house. The clouds were spread across the heavens, and thunder could be heard in the sky.

The flash from a lightening bolt, lit up the face

"Harrumph, no protection, do they think that they can withstand me by themselves" he remarked with a scorn adorning his face.

With a flick of his wand, he destroyed the doorway, and entered the house with a flourish.

The house was nearly empty, the husband working late because his office was usually kept very busy due to the war among the wizards.

The mother was the only protection the child of prophecy had.

She was in the kitchen cooking, when the silent alarm flared indicating unannounced visitors, followed by the crash which shook the house and left her momentarily dazed.

Voldemort was quick, ruthless; he was truly a fearsome wizard. He proved this once again by dispatching of the women, banishing her wand, tying her up.

He loved to torture people, and what greater torture than killing a child in front of their mother.

The woman was cursing him one moment, and pleading him to show mercy on her children the next, "please not my boys, please…" she sobbed out in vain.

"You monster, what do you want from us, what did we ever do to you" she asked in impotent anger.

The dark lord with a cruel smirk on his face levitated her in front of him up the stairs where he could hear the cries of children.

He pushed the door of the bedroom to see the two boys that fit the prophecy, his eyes lit up with evil humor, as if in anticipation of his approaching immortality.

"Before you is immortality, take it, it's yours," he intoned softly.

"Please, not my babies, anything but my babies" the mother begged, "take my life instead; please spare my babies."

"So be it," the dark lord replied, and with another flick of his wand, and a invoked curse "Avada Kedavra", the mother lay dead at the foot of the crib.

He then turned on the children, choose the first twin, and said "with you two dead, I will be invincible", he yelled out the death curse again, pointing his wand at the child.

Unknown to the dark lord, his verbal agreement, bought with the death of the mother, cast a protection that was his downfall.

The curse stuck the baby boy and rebounded back onto the dark lord. It was pure magic at work, for he had broken the magical agreement he had just entered to spare the women's children.

With a terrifying and agonizing scream, the dark lord was torn from his earthly body with the ferocity of the retribution invoked by the love of the mother, his protections against his own death still binding him to this plane. He vanished away into the night leaving a burning house in his wake.

* * *

The same wards that had identified an intruder to the women had also alerted an old man sitting distant in a castle up in the north portion of the country in the land of the Scotts.

The old man was Albus Dumbledore, the headmaster of Hogwarts School of witchcraft and wizardry. Among many other things he was also the head of a clandestine group of wizards and witches who were actively participating in opposition to oppose the terror that was Lord Voldemort and his followers called the Death Eaters, the group was called The Order of the Phoenix.

He had set up many wards on all the order members; he had also tied in a ward to notify him if an unforgivable curse was ever cast in its confines. The death curse was as unforgivable curse if cast on a fellow human.

He looked up as he noticed the silver gadget on his desk spun around notifying him of the issue at hand. Concerned, he acted quickly to determine which of his followers was under attack. He turned towards a wall bare of anything but a large map of England, and issued a command to identify the victims.

With a flourish he spun on his heels and rushed out of his office, while sending a _Patronus _to inform two of his associates; Minerva McGonagall his deputy headmistress to inform her of his action, and to keep an eye on the school and to "Mad-eye" Moody who was the head auror at the time.

* * *

Dumbledore arrived by the same field, where Voldemort had appeared but a short while ago. He stopped in dismay as he looked at the burning building; he rushed in to check on the condition of the occupants, though he was distressed about what he would find in its confines.

He ran in to find the house seemingly vacant on the ground floor, obvious signs of combat apparent with the displaced furniture, and general disarray of the room. He heard the sound of crying upstairs, and breathed out a sigh of relief.

His eyes seemed to be shimmer with unshed tears, "At the very least, they did not kill the children," he thought.

He rushed up to the first floor to and into the room where he heard the noise. He stopped short as looked at the scene, the mother lying on the floor, as if taking a peaceful nap, and her two sons; twins, who looked remarkably alike tugging at her. He did not fail to notice the dead body of the most feared dark lord in the recent history lying in a heap in the corner, where he was blasted away by the magics at work.

He was startled out of his musings as heard the sound of several wizards _apparated_ into the neighborhood, but was glad as realized who it was and called down to him.

"Alastor, leave your men there to douse the fire, and come up here please," he yelled down to the grizzled old auror who was readying himself to storm the house.

The auror walked in with slow deliberate steps, as if testing the ground with each step he took. His alert eyes missing nothing, his mind deducing all that must have taken place. But even is his keen analytical mind, with years of experience at his job as an auror did not prepare him for the scene in the children's bedroom.

He frowned as he tried to form possible conclusions on what he was seeing.

"As the saying goes, Alastor," Dumbledore quoted "when you eliminate the impossible, whatever remains, no matter how improbable, must be the truth."

"He killed her," Moody said gruffly, "but looks like when he turned to kill the boys, it somehow backfired, and he ended up dead?"

"Looks that way, fortunately it looks like they will not be bereft of their father whilst growing up"

"So, he was not in the house," Moody asked.

"No, he had to go on a raid today," Dumbledore continued "he was hence working late, he needs to be notified, and perhaps one of his friends should talk to him"

"The boys will probably be known throughout our land, famous for surviving you-know-who as they fashion him"

"Yes Alastor, they are the boys-who-lived after all," Dumbledore declared in an amused voice.

_**

* * *

Years pass…**_

In a huge hall, with a tall ceiling that seemed to rise up to the heavens. Its ceiling; seemed as if to reflect the night sky; showing the twinkling stars of a crystal clear sky of the north, in the moors of Scotland, hundreds of candles seemed to lighten up the hall, seemingly held up by magic halfway up the hall, in the air.

It was filled with students sitting down on in four rows of long tables which ran along its length towards its head where on a raised daises sat a row of teachers, for this was the great hall, the assembly place of the castle of Hogwarts, a school for witchcraft and wizardry.

As we pass through its huge double doors, we find numerous small children waiting in anticipation, alternatively looking in awe at one among their own and at the student who was now sitting on a small stool, in the front of the assembly with a pointy hat on his head, which seemed to be covering his face due its size.

Whispers of muted conversations could be caught as we enter.

"…the boys-who-lived…" "…seems rather small, don't you think…" "…cute though…" "Wonder if he will be sorted into Hufflepuff"

The hat, seemed to open a mouth and announce "**Gryffindor**"

The boy got up excitedly and ran towards the table with the red and gold markings, and sat down near an older redheaded boy turning to watch the sorting.

It was next his twin's turn to get sorted, after a brief debate, during which he passed with no little anxiety, the hat announced again "Gryffindor"

His brother ran towards him, and took his arms and they did a small jig at being sorted in the same house. They were interrupted however, when a person cleared their voice to get their attention.

"Right, I am ever so pleased that you two were sorted, I was worried that you might not make it into Gryffindor," said the slightly older boy beside them.

"Oh! Stuff it Percy, you know we would end up here, its not like we would end up in Slytherin," the boys proclaimed simultaneously.

_**

* * *

6 years later…**_

We enter to see the same assembly hall again filled with students and teachers, laughing, talking, eating… it was the start of the sixth year for the twins-who-lived-to-prank,

"…the other schools will be arriving in October for the Tri-Wizard Tournament," Headmaster Dumbledore said to his companion Professor Sirius Black; the teacher for the study of Defense against the Dark Arts class, as a not so amused Professor McGonagall looked on with a frown adorning her face.

Dumbledore, suddenly stopped as if distracted out of his words by something unseen, he grows quiet in contemplation.

After a few minutes of silence, leaning towards him she enquired in a whisper, "What seems to be the matter Albus?"

"I am not sure Minerva, there seems to be a problem…"

He was interrupted by a sudden flash in the center of the hall, in a blinding light a crimson bird appears holding onto what looks like a young teenager, bloody with his exquisite robes in disarray, torn here and there.

The phoenix, for it was the headmaster's familiar and companion Fawkes, deposited the boy in the middle of the hall and trills a call as if agitated.

The boy looks up, with tears in his green eyes, blood dripping down a cup running from his forehead, where a "V" seemed to have been carved into his forehead by a nasty cut. His hair, naturally messy, sticking up everywhere, disheveled.

"Harry," yelled a startled Sirius Black, he leapt over the table and ran towards the boy, who was his godson, with Dumbledore and the others following close behind.

The boy, looked up into the eyes of Black, he whispered "Sirius," with a sob, "they are dead, they killed them"

He then looks up towards Dumbledore and says, "He is back, he used my blood in a ritual, he is back Professor, he killed them…"

Dumbledore knew that the true prophecy had been leaked, and was made known to Voldemort, and for all intents and purpose, Harry Potter was the _chosen one._

_**

* * *

16 years ago…**_

"_The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches. … Born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies …" _

Aberforth, pulls an eavesdropping Severus Snape away from the door, keeps him bound.

Albus Dumbledore; after some discussion with his brother; confounds the young Snape and replaces his memory of the event with a fabrication.

Snape goes away believing that he was turned away by Aberforth, and he heard a prophecy.

"_The day of fools brings forth two boys, _

_The dark lord's destiny in their hands lie_

_His downfall shall mark the days of joys,_

_As follows the ibis that dies_"

Voldemort remembers the story he read "The Scarlet Ibis", and like Doodle, believes it to be a paradigm of death, thinks that it refers to the twin Weasley boys and attacks the Burrow killing a pregnant Molly Weasley with her unborn son Ronald Weasley.

_**

* * *

As time goes by…**_

Dumbledore informs the Potters and the Longbottoms of the real prophecy.

The Longbottoms ignore the prophecy and continue their jobs as aurors. In a firefight while trying to capture Bellatrix Lestrange and her cohorts, Alice Longbottom is cursed into coma, while Frank Longbottom looses his mind under prolonged exposure to the _Cruciatus_, Neville Longbottom grows up a mousey, shy, socially awkward teenager.

The Potters go into hiding, with the help of their friends, Sirius Black, Remus Lupin, Peter Pettigrew and Severus Snape, who is pulled into this by Lilly Potter, home school the young Harry Potter to face his destiny. The young Potter grows up to be a powerful, intelligent boy, socially awkward as his only companions are adults; he grows mature but ill prepared to face his peers on a even footing.

The Weasley twins foil the return of Voldemort in their 2nd year…

Lucius Malfoy drops the diary into the cauldron on Alicia Spinnet, who takes it to her head of the house Professor McGonagall, who then brings it to the attention of the headmaster. Dumbledore after careful study comes to a conclusion that this is a Horcrux created by Voldemort, and destroys it.

Hermione Granger grows up a shy, socially awkward Gryffindor, immersed in her books, speaking to few people, friends with even less. The twins take her up as a surrogate for their unborn sibling who would have been in the same year as her.

---

Peter Pettigrew, styled Wormtail by his friends, was also informed of the prophecy by James Potter. In the events leading up to the revival of Voldemort, he informs his master of the true prophecy.

Wormtail betrays the Potters by doping them with potions, and taking them to the ritual. The Potters wake up tied to gravestones, and Voldemort uses Harry's blood.

Voldemort literally marks Harry as his equal by cutting a "V" on his forehead with the same ritual knife used in his revival. Voldemort kills the elder Potters in front of Harry, and then releases him to duel with him.

Harry holds his own in the duel, surprising Voldemort and his followers, but Voldemort's superior experience and skill slowly starts wearing him down. Harry is soon brought to his knees in front of Voldemort, bloody and bruised. Fawkes then appears suddenly and takes him away from the scene to Hogwarts.

---

Dumbledore calls the order back into action.

He feels that Harry would be safest at Hogwarts, and he gets sorted into Gryffindor where he soon makes friends with the twins, as they share his sympathies.

Harry becomes close to Hermione, she soon becomes his best friend, as they are both pretty studious and mature for their age, constantly thrown together as a surrogate Weasley, into his life even during the holidays.

_**

* * *

Time flies…**_

Time, such an esoteric term passes and kids become young men and women, and young men and women grow into their adulthood…

Harry looked at the field in front of him, the grass is patched with burn marks, upheavals where there are pits formed by blasts. There are bodies lying scattered around some dead, some in death throes, and many more but just injured. He can still see the remnants of the fight being carried out around him. Far in the scene is the Hogwarts castle, standing strong and proud as the day it was built, never conquered in past, nor was it now, in this fight. For the fight had gone in his favor, and his greatest enemy lay dead behind him.

_**

* * *

16 years later…**_

Harry is standing on the 9 ¾ station with an arm around his wife as he waves good bye to his first born, who is on his way to his first year at Hogwarts.

"Time flies," he remarks with a sigh.

His wife leans her head on to his shoulder and nods her accession.

**

* * *

Author's Note: **This is a one-shot that I might or might not elaborate this into a full story. If you wish to take this story up, please do so by giving me a small note in your Author's notes. Please note there are some generics in and following the section titled "as time goes by", use this as loose guidelines for the story. Also note, I have not mentioned Harry's wife's name, so it might or might not be Hermione.


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